Wherewithal

By Texas2002

Thank you to Mr. Dortort who created the Cartwrights and the Ponderosa and shared them. And thank you to Ms. Sullivan who gave them new life. This story is purely for entertainment and is not intended to infringe on their rights or the rights of anyone else involved in these marvelous shows.

Rating: G

This story follows "Lessons Learned"

Dismal gray clouds dripped an equally dismal rain outside the quiet saloon as Barbara Cartwright stretched her legs under the table nearest the bar and watched Shelby jerk the cigar from her mouth.

What had begun as an occasional meeting for a cup of morning coffee had developed into a ritual - come rain or shine. And early spring in Eagle Station seemed to involve more rain than shine. Sipping her coffee, Barbara waited for her friend’s response.

"You whut?" Shelby demanded after she’d recovered from Barbara’s announcement. Surely she had not heard Barbara right.

"What do you think?" Barbara prodded.

Shelby leaned her right elbow on the table and pointed with her cigar. "I think you need anuther cuppa coffee, is whut I think." She dragged on her cigar and propped it in the left side of her mouth. "Eagle Station!" Shelby leaned back in her chair and swung her arms wide. "Eagle Station?"

Barbara smiled slowly as she lowered her almost-empty mug. "You settled here."

"Wull, yeah. But I ain’t got the - wherewithal that you’ve got."

Wherewithal. Barbara liked that word. "And just how much - wherewithal do I have?"

Her friend squinted as the cigar smoke drifted toward her eyes. "Enuf ta get outta Eagle Station fer sure." She smiled. "Yer joshin’ with me, ain’t ya?"

"Nope."

Shelby tilted her head back and looked at Barbara from the bottoms of her eyes. "What’s Ben say?"

Turning her cup around, Barbara asserted that Ben had no say in the matter at all.

Her statement brought a sharp laugh from Shelby. "That’ll be the day when Ben Cartwright ain’t got nothin’ ta say about things." Shelby slapped the palm of her left hand on the tabletop. "Well, dang Barbara! I think we oughta drink ta this." She stood and walked to the bar.

"None of the cheap stuff," Barbara warned.

"Ya know good and well I don’t sell none of that." Shelby placed a shot glass in front of Barbara. "Leastways, not ta my good customers." She filled Barbara’s glass, then her own, and returned to her chair. "Ta the second craziest dern woman in town," Shelby said as she raised her shot glass in a toast.

They swallowed the whisky in one gulp - a skill Barbara had learned from her once seafaring cousin - and slammed the glasses to the tabletop.

Shelby returned her cigar to her lips and Barbara mused that, given enough time, the saloon owner would find a way to drink with that cigar wedged between her teeth.

"Ya know whut?" Shelby asked.

Barbara raised her eyebrows.

"I’m thinkin’ we’ve had this all wrong."

"How’s that?"

"I’m thinkin’ all this time we shoulda been startin’ off the day with a stiff drink insteada this here coffee."

"Shelby, the way you make coffee it is a stiff drink."

Barbara stood, tugged on her gloves, and wrapped the left front of her coat over the right front. After a quick wave to Shelby, she pushed the swinging doors aside and stepped to the wooden sidewalk. The chill caused her to tuck her chin as she ran across the quagmire between buildings and prayed to Heaven she wouldn’t slip. She had just washed these pants and had no desire to wear a dress anytime soon.

"Barbara!"

Unwilling to expose her chin to the cool, damp air, Barbara raised only her eyes and then smiled. Whisky might warm her stomach, but her cousins warmed her heart.

Adam walked briskly toward her - his gloved hands thrust in the front pockets of his cord jacket, his dark hat pulled low over his eyes. Apparently he was less inclined to tempt fate than she was because he did not run across the muddy, uneven street. He did, however, do that characteristic little skip as he reached the sidewalk in front of the boarding house.

Barbara nodded her thanks when he held the door open and, after a quick shake that scattered the rain from her wool coat and pinned-up hair, she led the way upstairs to her room. "Breakfast?" she offered.

He cocked his head and gave her face a quick study before hanging his hat on the rack at the top of the stairs. "No, thank you."

"Let me guess." Barbara tugged at her wool-lined gloves and hung her coat beside Adam's hat.. "You ate breakfast hours ago. You people get up at the most ungodly hour."

"You have to get an early start when you work for a living."

"But isn’t waking up the rooster a bit extreme?"

He gave her one of those big smiles of his and walked to the wood-burning stove. "I’ll have a cup of tea with you."

"I’ve had my morning cup of tea." Barbara stomped her boots on the floor.

"Is that what they call whisky now?" Adam shot back.

What had happened to that darling, shy youngster she had met years ago? He had been such a precious little boy. Precious and precocious and, come to think of it, smart-mouthed.

He turned his back to the stove and held his hands behind him to warm them. "Pa asked me to remind you about Joe’s birthday. He also asked if you’d spend a few days."

Barbara studied Adam suspiciously.

He shrugged. "I don’t know. All he told me was to ask you to please spend a few days."

"Please? He said ‘please?’"

Her dark-haired cousin started to say, "Yes, ma’am" but stopped himself. Thankfully she had broken him of that habit. Although it would be fun to hear the words addressed to her from Benjamin. Maybe when he was old and bent and wasn’t responsible for what he said.

"Pa always says ‘please,’" Adam pointed out. His eyes reflected his humor. "Even when it’s an order."

Barbara wrapped her hand around an apple in the blue porcelain bowl on the dining table. "And why does he assume I would forget Joseph’s birthday?"

"I can’t read his mind, Barbara."

"Of course you can." She sat and waved her hand to a chair across the table from her. "I need to talk to you."

He backed slightly toward the stove. "Why?"

"Mercy, Adam, you’d think all I ever do is get you in trouble."

"I’ve noticed a tendency, yes."

She pointed toward the chair again and he slowly complied.

After swallowing a bite from the apple, Barbara motioned to a notepad and pencil near his elbow. He slid it across the tabletop and watched as she sketched a series of rectangles and squares. "I’ve bought a piece of property."

Adam’s face brightened with enthusiasm. "Where?"

"Here."

He frowned and asked, "Here?" as if he wasn’t sure where "here" was.

"Eagle Station."

Leaning his elbows on the table, he turned his head to one side. "Eagle Station." Adam pursed his lips and considered a thought - one he knew would rile Barbara because of its assumption about women. "We could use a good restaurant. Glory, we could use a restaurant."

Barbara knew what he was up to - prodding her into another discussion of a woman’s role in society. He always played devil’s advocate, enjoying every moment of their pseudo-arguments. "A restaurant, hum? So you do miss New Orleans."

"Only the food." His voice softened. "And Mrs. de Ville." He leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest. "I wonder how she is."

"She’s fine - I mean, she was fine when I was in New Orleans."

"She was." Adam had inherited a healthy dose of Ben’s New England-bred ability to smell a lie a mile away.

"Um hum." Barbara used her sketching as an excuse to avoid looking up - and confessing she had been in more recent contact with Daphne.

"Um hum."

He had also inherited Ben’s annoying habit of repeating what a person said. Best to change the subject. She pointed her pencil toward her drawing. "This is part of the property I bought. On the edge of town, near the road that leads to the ranch."

"The road that leads to the ranch."

Oh, for Heaven’s sake. He sounded like an echo. Two could play this game. "The road that leads to the ranch." She waited for him to repeat her words and when he didn’t she proceeded. "I want you to design a house for me."

"A house."

This was really too much. "Yes, a house."

His blue eyes narrowed. "What kind of house?"

What was he implying? "What kind of insolent question is that?"

Adam raised his chin. "It was more impertinent than insolent."

There was not much difference in impertinence and insolence - and Adam darn well knew it. The whippersnapper was baiting her. He’d inherited that ability from Ben, too. "Will you design the house or won’t you?"

He inclined his head. "I might." He rested his left hand on the note pad and gingerly reached for the pencil. "How do you plan to use it?"

"How do I plan to use it?"

"The house."

"The house."

Adam tapped the pencil on the tabletop. "Will it be a studio?"

"A studio."

His head lowered as his voice did. "Stop it, Barbara."

"Stop it."

Adam leaned back and frowned. "I put up with this from Joe. I don’t have to sit here and tolerate it from you."

"From me."

He tossed the pencil down and stood.

Barbara relented with a deep sigh. "Where did you leave your sense of humor?"

"Four miles down the road in the rain." Adam pulled off his jacket and hung it on the back of his chair. "Do you want me to make the coffee?" He frowned down at her.

Of course she didn’t want him to make the coffee. He was a terrible cook. Another trait he’d inherited from his father. Barbara walked across the room and poured water from a pitcher into the coffeepot. " I need a studio. North and east light. Fireplace. And I want a worktable along one wall. A bedroom. Southern exposure. Fireplace. A porch on all four sides of the house. No attic."

He cleared his throat but kept his eyes averted. "A kitchen?"

She barely kept the acid out of her voice. "A kitchen would be nice. Be sure you allow for a wood-burning cook stove."

"Yes, ma’am."

Barbara turned. Adam’s face was full of mischief. He propped his right boot on the stretcher between the chair legs.

And then he smart-mouthed again. "Who’ll be using this wood-burning cook stove for which I need to allow?"

"Do you realize what a snob you sound like?"

He nodded and arched his brows. "Do you realize I just insulted you?"

Barbara shot him what she hoped was an intimidating look. "Yes, I do."

Adam shook his head. "It won’t work, Barbara."

She walked across the room and stood in front of him. "I beg your pardon?"

"I don’t intimidate that easily. I’m Ben Cartwright’s son, remember?"

She licked her upper lip. "Believe me, Adam, I could never forget."

Ben Cartwright laid a rein against Dusty’s neck, indicating which way he wanted the buckskin horse to turn. Dusty was one of Hoss’ favorites. What worried Ben was that Hoss liked every horse on the place. His son's nickname seemed more appropriate each day as his love for the horses became more and more evident. Whether or not he would be able to sell any of the animals when the time came remained to be seen.

He heard a nicker from another horse and turned to see Beauty plodding up the road from town with an unsmiling Adam in the saddle.

The rain had eased into a fine drizzle but the young man’s hat looked like it had wilted hours earlier. "Nice day." Ben’s breath added a fog to the air when he tried to brighten Adam's mood.

"The supplies will be in Friday," Adam replied without stopping Beauty.

Ben kneed Dusty into a walk. Fine, Adam didn't want his mood brightened. "And Barbara?"

"She’ll bring the supplies."

"Did you ask her to stay a few days?"

Adam nodded and immediately wished he hadn’t as a waterfall cascaded from the brim of his hat to his saddle and trickled against his pants legs. "She said she’d be honored."

Ben cut him a look. "Honored."

"Something like that."

The day Barbara said she'd be honored by anything Ben did - he leaned his head back and laughed. He wished he hadn’t when the rain on his hat brim hit the back of his saddle and dampened the seat of his pants.

Adam pulled up his coat collar. He’d been pleased to see the grass so tall last week. Now it brushed against Beauty’s legs and splattered cold droplets against his pant legs. "She’s bought property."

Ben studied his son, wondering what the punch line was.

"It’s no joke, Pa."

"She’s leaving?"

Adam tilted his head, conspicuously keeping his eyes on the trail. "Not exactly."

There were times when Adam could be as exasperating as an eleven year old. "How does someone not exactly leave?" Was it like not telling all the truth? Or not really not asking permission?

Adam shifted in his saddle. "She’s leaving the boarding house."

"But?"

"She’s not leaving town. Well, she’s sort of leaving town."

Ben closed his eyes a moment so he could concentrate. "Leaving the boarding house but not leaving town just sort of leaving town."

"Um hum."

"Adam?"

His son glanced his way inquiringly.

"Could you simplify this?"

"She bought some property maybe a quarter mile outside town. Near the road that leads to the ranch."

"To the ranch."

Adam nodded.

Barbara? Buying property? What scheme was she hatching now?

"She’s building a house."

Adam’s announcement brought his father up short. "She’s what?"

"Building a house."

"A house."

"Um hum."

Ben wasn’t sure why his son burst into laughter after he asked, "What kind of house?" He started to ask the question again but Adam waved his gloved left hand Ben’s way, asking him not to.

When he’d regained control, Adam rubbed his index finger under his nose. "A studio. North and east light. Fireplace. And a worktable along one wall. A bedroom. Southern exposure. Fireplace. A porch on all four sides of the house. No attic." He straightened in the saddle. "And a kitchen would be nice but I need to allow for a wood-burning cook stove."

"You need to allow for a cook stove?"

"I’m drawing it for her."

Ben was hopelessly confused. "A cook stove?"

"What?" Adam frowned at him.

"You’re drawing a stove for her?"

"Why would I do that, Pa?"

Ben rested his hands on the saddle horn and stared into space. "What are you drawing for Barbara?"

"The house," Adam answered worriedly. Maybe his father had been out in the damp weather too long and it had impaired his ability to think. After they dismounted by the corral, Adam held out his left hand. "I’ll take care of Dusty, Pa. You - probably need to go inside."

Pa gave him the strangest look. But he handed over Dusty’s reins and shook his head as he walked to the house.

"Barbara’s done what?" Angus asked as Ben and he walked in front of the McNally home the next day. The flowering roses climbing along the front fence released such a sweet fragrance that the air smelled like it was wearing too much perfume.

"She’s bought property in town. Just outside town," Ben amended. He was glad the day was sunny and warm. The damp weather yesterday had given him a headache - or maybe it had been that conversation with Adam as they’d ridden home.

"She’s bought property, ‘as she?" Angus mulled over the news. "What’re ya thinkin’ she’s up ta, then?"

Ben shook his head and picked up a stick. He dragged it in the grass beside him. "Angus," he said in response to his friend’s question, "life is much simpler if I don’t try to second-guess Barb."

"And ‘ere I was ‘oping that Eagle Station would turn inta a nice, peaceful town in a coupla years. Not a chance a that now." He tilted his head. "Not much of a chance fer quiet in yer life, either, I warrant."

Ben chuckled. "I wouldn’t recognize quiet if it walked up and introduced itself."

Angus appreciated the observation and laughed deeply. "So ya think ‘er rovin’ days are over?"

"Barbara?" Ben asked incredulously.

"She’s buildin’ a house, is she not?"

"According to Adam."

"What kind of a house?"

The pair stopped their stroll and each leaned his back against a tree trunk. "I’m not sure Adam ever answered that."

Angus took in a deep breath and shifted his weight from his right leg to his left. "Benjamin? Barbara ‘asn’t changed that much, ‘as she?"

"How much?"

Lowering his voice to a normal range, Angus leaned toward Ben as if he were divulging a secret. "Enough ta - well - open a house ta - well - ya know -"

Ben’s mouth dropped open as he understood the implication. "A restaurant?!" He blinked rapidly. "Can a person change that much?"

"Well, no, not yer average person," Angus conceded.

"If she opens a restaurant it’ll fail in an hour."

"Aye, that it will."

They stared across the meadow to the barn, worry creasing their foreheads.

"Ah, Ben, surely there’s somethin’ we kin do ta keep ‘er from such a catastrophe. Perhaps - perhaps she could open another boardin’ ‘ouse. Eagle Station needs one."

Ben gave him a look of wide-eyed disbelief. "The way she keeps house?"

Angus snapped his fingers. "She’ll be startin’ a newspaper. "

Ben tossed the stick to the side. The thought of Barbara expressing her opinions in black on white was close to terrifying. But so was the prospect of eating her cooking. A boarding house sounded like the best option so far.

"What’s tha woman good at?" Angus wondered aloud.

"Aggravating anyone she comes in contact with."

"I’m meanin’ besides the obvious, Benjamin."

Again they stared across the meadow to the barn.

Angus shoved his hands in his pants pockets. "Surely the woman’s good at something. She paints, am I right?"

"Yes."

"Ya think she’s buildin’ a place where she’ll be paintin’?"

They faced each other, considered the idea, and then shook their heads. Who’d ever head of a woman painter setting up a studio in a place like Eagle Station?

Angus eased his right hand from his pocket and rubbed his jaw. "This is a fright’ning thought, ‘tis. Barbara settlin’ in town and all."

"It’s a frightening thought if Barbara is settling anywhere." Ben pushed from the tree and they walked toward the house. "You’re welcome to dinner Friday."

"I’m thinkin’ not. That oldest one a yers is needin’ a bit more time. ‘E’s like ‘is father, ‘e is."

Ben stopped and looked up at his friend’s face. "Like me?"

"In more ways than I kin count, man. But tha one I was speakin’ of is ‘e learns fast - ‘e’ll not be welcomin’ me fer some time ta come." Angus lowered his hand from his chin. "It’s a bad temper I ‘ave, Benjamin."

"That has come to my attention."

Angus slapped him on the back. "Before yer leavin’ we ‘ave somethin’ for tha birthday boy." He left Ben standing by Dusty and returned from the house as Ben was tightening the saddle cinch. "A little somethin’ ta keep the lad busy." He smiled when Ben turned the wrapped flat parcel over. "Tis nothing dangerous, I give ya m’word."

Ben stashed the gift and swung into the saddle.

Angus shook Ben’s hand and stepped back. "And if ya should discover what Barbara’s plannin’ -"

Ben touched the brim of his hat. "I’ll tell you if we need to leave the territory."

Angus waved goodbye and then lowered his head. "Tha saints ‘elp ya, Benjamin." He watched as Ben rode away. "And tha angels, too."

Hoss had been looking forward to Barbara’s arrival all day - the fact that they were celebrating Joe’s birthday was only part of the reason. Mainly it was fun to watch Barbara get the better of Pa. Not that Hoss’d ever admit that to Pa - he wasn’t inclined to understand that kind of thing.

Hoss was delighted when Barbara drove up in her carriage. But when he helped her step down, and she reached back to lift a box that probably held a cake, his heart sank. He loved Barbara to death but she couldn’t cook worth spit.

"Don’t look like that," she chided as she handed him the box. "It’s from Ruth."

He let out a huge sigh of relief and shifted the cake to his left hand. She reached into the carriage again and lifted a small satchel but Hoss grabbed it from her grasp even though she protested that she was perfectly capable of carrying her own luggage. "We’re sure glad you’re gonna be stayin’ with us," he said.

She licked her lips. "Some of you are."

Hoss laughed and followed her to the house.

Ben straightened from pouring a mug of tea. His eyes drifted from Barb, stunningly pretty in a dress the color of spring grass, to the cake box Hoss placed on the table. In the interest of avoiding a blood-letting he kept his face as unreadable as possible.

Hop Sing, however, was not so guarded. His dark eyes betrayed his concern regarding the dessert.

Barb threw her hands in the air when she saw his cautious expression, "Oh for the love of -"

Hoss looked from Barbara to Hop Sing and back to Barbara. When had Hop Sing and her started sparring?

Ben hastened across the floor. "You look lovely, Barb."

She huffed up and ignored Ben’s advance, focusing instead on Hop Sing. "I didn’t bake the cake. Ruth did."

Hop Sing nodded and used his most non-committal tone of voice. "That was - most kind of her."

Barbara tossed her head back. "And lucky for you."

Ben reached toward her shoulders in a conciliatory gesture. "He didn’t say that."

"He didn’t have to." She narrowed her eyes as her cousin eased her toward the dining table. An over-sized pail sat on the tabletop with a large lidded bowl surrounded by ice in its center. "What’s that?"

Hoss dropped her luggage to the floor and leaned his hands on the table. His eyebrows rose and his eyes grew large as he answered. "We’re making iced cream."

"So that’s the real reason you built that ice house." Barb peered over the top of the pail as if she could see through the lid on the bowl. "What flavor is it?"

Hoss shrugged and pushed his hands into the front pockets of his pants. "Plain. But Hop Sing’s soakin’ dried apples in some kind of liquor and we’re gonna put those on top of it."

She smiled in anticipation. "When will it be ready?"

"Aw - Hop Sing says we gotta wait until after dinner."

Wait for dinner! "What for?" Barb demanded.

Hoss shook his head and leaned toward her. "That’s what I said."

"And what did he say?" Barb sat in the chair that Ben had pulled from the table for her.

"He said we’d just fill up on iced cream and not want any food."

"Iced cream is a food," Barb protested.

Hoss jerked his right hand from his pocket and pointed in the general direction of where Hop Sing was turning two chickens on a pan in the fireplace. "That’s what I said. But you know Hop Sing, he ain’t gonna budge an inch."

Ben smiled at the looks of grief on his cousin’s and son’s faces. He placed a cup in front of Barbara and carefully filled it with tea. Hoss lifted the lid from the bowl filled with iced cream and stirred the contents with a large wooden spatula. Ben wondered if it was his imagination that Hoss replaced the lid with no small amount of regret.

The moment Hoss and he sat in the chairs opposite her, Barb declared, "I bought some property."

Ben again took great care to keep his face free of emotion. "Adam said you had. He said he’s planning the house for you." He looked down at his tea and absently stirred it even though he hadn’t added anything to it. "What kind of house is it?"

"You, too?" she demanded. Her eyes flashed and her jaw set in a manner Ben was only too familiar with - the sign of an angry Cartwright.

He had no idea why she was upset but he quickly amended his question. "What are you planning to do with it?"

Barbara’s eyes shot around the room. "What you do with your home?"

He couldn’t resist. "It’s a boarding house."

"A boarding house?"

Ben leaned his elbows on the table and held his cup in both hands. "You said you planned to do what I do with this house. I have three boarders in that room -" he nodded toward the bunkroom "- and another one in there -" a nod toward Hop Sing’s room.

She leaned back and hooked her left arm over the top of the chair - looking dainty in her dress but more like Barbara in her posture. "I am not opening a boarding house."

Oh, no. Surely she wasn’t opening - "A restaurant?" Ben’s voice was sickly.

Merciful Heavens, it wasn’t like she didn’t know her limits. "Why on Earth would I open a restaurant? It would close in the first hour." Why was Ben blinking like that?

He put down his cup of tea, lowered his head, and clasped his hands behind his neck. "Tell me you aren’t starting a newspaper."

Barb smiled. What a marvelous way to worry him. Why hadn't she thought of that? "That’s an excellent idea, Ben." My goodness, he was moaning in despair. "This town could use a means for people to share their ideas and express their opinions."

"Um umv own tn umts fr mt."

Hoss and she leaned down and toward him. "I can’t understand you when you’re talking to the table," Barb stated.

He raised his head ever so slightly so he could see her, but he kept his hands around the back of his neck. "I said we have our town meetings for that."

"Not everyone is comfortable speaking in public."

Hoss nodded in agreement. "Yeah, Pa."

Ben’s response was quick - and directed at Barbara. "Some of us aren’t comfortable reading what other people write."

She flicked her left hand breezily. "That’s the marvelous thing about a newspaper. You don’t have to read what you don’t want to." Her voice held a calculating tone that Ben did not care for. At all. "Whereas, in a public forum you have to listen to whoever has the floor."

The front door flew open, announcing Joe’s entrance. "Hi!" He ran to Barbara and stopped before he could barrel into her. He put his left hand on the top of her chair and his right hand next to her leg. "Ya staying for dinner?"

Barbara tapped his nose. "I’m staying a few days."

His hazel eyes widened. "Let’s go fishin’ in the morning."

"I brought my pants just for that reason."

"All right!"

Smoke’s barking followed his master’s shout for joy. He pushed Joe out of the way with the side of his strong body and placed his right paw on the chair seat, politely asking for attention.

When Barbara rubbed behind the dog’s left ear, Smoke’s tongue lolled from the side of his mouth and his eyes closed in a sign of exquisite happiness.

Joe frowned at having his position usurped. He regained his footing, noticed the cake, and rolled worried eyes at Ben.

"Ruth sent it," Ben said. Joe’s look of relief was as comical as Smoke’s expression of ecstasy.

The boy quickly changed the subject. "Me and Adam got the supplies unloaded."

If Ben knew his sons there had been more Adam than me involved in that chore. "And who fed the horses?"

Joe looked around the way he always did when he was considering a lie. Then he opted for the truth, probably deciding it was best not to get in trouble on his birthday. "I guess I maybe oughta go do that," he said earnestly.

Ben nodded, fighting not to smile. "I guess you maybe oughta should."

The youngster blurted, "Excuse me" and ran to the porch, never hearing Ben’s request that he close the door behind him. Not that it mattered. Adam entered the doorway at the same time that Joe dashed out. The older brother swung his hips to the right to avoid a collision and smacked his hand on top of his hat to prevent it from blowing away in Joe’s wake. He turned on his boot heels to see where Joe was headed and then stepped into the room. "I think he forgot -"

"To feed the horses," Ben finished the sentence. "Would you -"

"Close the door, please?" Adam gave Ben an amused look as he did so. "That dress looks very nice on you, Barbara."

"You hat would look better off you." Her smile took the bite out of her words and she watched with affection as Adam placed his hat on the table and pulled out the chair beside her.

Hoss lifted the teapot, asking if Adam wanted a cup, but Adam shook his head and slouched in his chair.

"Do you have my house drawn yet?" Barbara teased. Or thought she was.

"Sure."

"I suppose you did it in an hour."

He closed his eyes and rubbed his palms over them. "Three and a half."

Three and half hours to design a house? "Will it stand after it’s built?"

He opened his eyes. "Yes, it will stand after it is built."

Barbara sipped her tea, which gave her time to reflect. "Where did he get this talent?" she asked Ben. Before he could chide her she scolded herself. "Of course - Uncle Joe." When she caught Hoss’ quizzical expression, she explained. "Your grandfather."

Hoss frowned in exasperation. " I know who he was. Why’re ya talking about him?"

"He designed boats."

"Ships," Ben automatically corrected.

"Boats. Ships. What’s the difference?" Barbara dismissed.

"You’d find out at sea," Ben said dryly.

She shifted on her chair and tossed her head. "I was at sea longer than you were."

Hoss gave Adam a "brother look" and Adam winked back at him. Pa wasn’t especially skilled at backing down from a challenge. One from Barbara always provided entertainment.

Ben leaned across the table and spoke slowly. "How did you determine that you were at sea longer than I was?"

"You sailed from the time you were what - thirteen, fourteen? You quit sailing when you married Elizabeth and you were -"

"Nineteen." Ben pushed his teacup aside.

"So you sailed for, at the most, six years. I, on the other hand, have traveled for more than thirteen years and the majority of that was by ship. Therefore, I was at sea longer than you were."

Ben shook his head as he disagreed. "You were on land the better part of that time."

"It always took longer to travel somewhere than I was ever able to stay."

Adam saw the mischief light up his father’s eyes.

"Well, Barb, if you hadn’t been such a troublemaker they probably would have let you stay on land longer," Ben said.

"I learned everything I know from you." She reconsidered. "Not everything. Maybe half." She tapped her left index finger on the tabletop. "Aren’t you curious?"

"About what you didn’t learn from me?"

"Really, Benjamin," she chided. "I’m referring to the land I purchased."

"What about the land you purchased?"

She tossed her head and assumed a regal air. "I thought you might be curious about my intentions."

"You bought land outside town near the ranch road to build a house," he recited. Ben wondered if Adam had any idea where Barbara was leading the conversation but a slight shake of his eldest son’s head told him they were all at her mercy.

Taking her own sweet time, Barbara moved her teacup in front of her and then held it up in a silent request for more. Hoss filled the cup from the teapot. Ben tried not to let aggravation get the better of him when she leisurely sipped from the warm liquid.

"Fine," he yielded to her control. "What do you intend to do with the land you purchased?" A thought occurred to him. "How much land?"

She shrugged. "About fifty acres."

Adam jerked in his chair. Fifty acres to build a house?

"Fifty acres to build a house?" Ben blurted. "Zeus, Barb, what kind of house is it?"

Barbara slapped her hands on the tabletop, causing the teacups to rattle in their saucers. "I wish you men would quit assuming I am opening some - some sort of - sporting house!"

Ben and Adam flushed. Hoss was perplexed. "I beg your pardon?" Ben asked before he thought.

"You lived in New Orleans far too long not to know what a sporting house is."

Glory, Adam thought, I knew what a sporting house was by the time we’d lived in New Orleans three weeks. Not first-hand, of course.

Ben rested his right elbow on the chair arm. He rubbed his left hand over his eyes. Thank heavens Joe wasn’t hearing this. "I assure you I never thought you were opening a sporting house."

"What did you think I had planned?" Barbara smoothed the left sleeve of her dress. Slapping the table had mussed her apparel.

"I told you - I thought you were opening a restaurant or a newspaper. Maybe a boarding house."

He had been serious when he had mentioned that? "A boarding house," she protested. "The way I keep house?" Ben was doing it again. That rapid blinking. What was bothering his eyes so much?

"You bought fifty acres." Adam spoke slowly and deliberately.

Barbara nodded her head curtly.

"Outside town," he added.

She nodded again.

"To build a house."

What was wrong with these two today? "Who in their right mind would buy fifty acres outside Eagle Station to build a house?" she demanded.

Adam held out his left hand, palm up. "You said you bought fifty acres."

She turned on her chair seat until her knees touched Adam’s. "Did I say I bought fifty contiguous acres? You do know what contiguous -"

"I know what it means, Barbara. So," Adam continued, "we have established that the property is not adjoining. Where is the rest of it?" He motioned to Hoss that he had reconsidered and needed a cup of tea after all.

Barbara waited while Hoss filled the cup. She accepted it from him and passed it to her muttering, dark-haired cousin. "I told you," she insisted, "it’s outside town."

It was time to give Adam a rest. Ben took over. "Outside town where?"

Barbara swiveled in her chair and spread her arms. "Outside town - all around it."

Adam choked on his tea and slapped his left hand over his mouth. Ben promptly tossed a napkin in his son’s direction but it was too late. The need for breath triumphed and Adam spewed his drink. He bent at the waist, coughing and wheezing.

Ben winced when his cousin whacked Adam between the shoulder blades. If the boy didn’t choke to death he would more than likely have a broken spine. But luck was with Adam in one regard. None of the tea had landed on Barb’s gorgeous dress. Had that been the case she would have been beating Adam on the head instead of on the back.

Adam’s right hand shot up and grabbed her arm. "Stop," he ordered. He paused for a gasp. "Before you -" another gasp " - kill me."

Barbara was affronted. She pulled back and folded her arms at her waist. "I was trying to help."

"Then don’t help me," Adam requested and Hoss looked away so he wouldn’t laugh.

Adam adored the woman as much as he had the first time the two had met - but he was a little more realistic about her limitations. He dabbed at the tea splattered on the tabletop. His wheezing grew less frequent.

When his son’s coloring returned to normal, except for the bloodshot eyes, Ben resumed the conversation. "You bought acreage all around town?"

Barbara came as close to gloating as possible. She snugged her crossed arms and tilted her head to one side. "I have it surrounded."

Ben knew he shouldn’t but he did anyway. "When do you expect it to surrender?"

She considered him for several heartbeats. "That’s a bad joke even for you."

Out of the side of his eye, Ben saw Adam grin but when he turned his full attention to his eldest son, the grin quickly faded into an expression of unbelievable humility. Ben faced Barbara, still wondering about his son’s reaction. "Would you like to tell me why you bought all the property that surrounds town?" he suggested.

Barbara patted the left side of her hairdo and batted her eyelashes. "I thought you’d never ask."

Patience, Lord, Ben prayed. I will never ask for patience with Joseph again. Well -

"This calls for a drink." She walked to the hutch and returned with a bottle of Ben’s best whisky. Adam waved her offer away when she started to pour the aromatic liquid. Hoss indicated interest until he saw a warning look from Pa.

Ben gulped the tea from his cup and eagerly held it out to her. He could use some buttressing.

Barbara filled her cup halfway and then tapped it against Ben’s. Adam decided not to point out that the correct way to toast was to hold the cups toward each other - but not to tap them.

Ben closed his eyes when the liquid kicked back. Drinking with Angus had taught him how out of practice he was. He wasn’t about to let Barbara know about what she would consider an infirmity, so he kept his lips sealed until the liquor calmed down. "Exactly what are we celebrating?"

She laughed. "The baroness and the kings."

Barbara lost him there. Apparently she lost Hoss, too, because he looked at her from the sides of his eyes the way he always did when Ben confused him. "The kings?"

"You are looking at the Baroness of Eagle Station. And you, of course, are the Cattle Kings of the Ponderosa."

Adam muttered. "I don’t think kings clean out barns."

"That will change some day," Barbara assured.

Ben let her comment slide for the moment. Her tone of voice had been far too assertive for his comfort. But she was staying a few days. He could wait her out. He’d always been able to do that.

Hoss furtively watched his little brother. Joe was trying to eat his dinner, trying to act like curiosity wasn’t eating him, but he wasn’t doing well at either thing. Every few seconds those wandering eyes would slide over to the presents at the end of the table and then he’d catch himself, give Pa a quick look to see if he’d been watching, and then try to eat some more of the food on his plate.

Everyone else was eating as slowly as they could. Just to devil Little Joe. They hadn’t planned it that way but somehow everybody was doing it, even Hop Sing - he was having the hardest time of all not smiling because he could always see the humor in things. Usually Hop Sing would say something that would get right by you and then a while later you’d realize what he’d said and you’d groan out loud.

Barbara probably wasn’t eating slowly on purpose. Hoss had never seen anybody cut their food into such little bitty bites and then chew that little bitty bite so much. It was no wonder she was a tiny thing. She didn’t put enough into her body to keep a flea hopping.

Finally there was no more stretching dinner out. Joe flew to his feet and had half the table cleared before any one else could push back their chairs to relax and enjoy a cup of hot tea.

When he finally stood by the presents, though, Joe was concerned. "Pa, I think some of this is for somebody else."

Ben looked around the table at the smiling faces. "Anyone else have a birthday today?"

They shook their heads.

As he added honey to his tea, Ben easily said, "It must all be yours, Joseph."

Joe looked doubtful but his small, long-fingered hands lifted the first surprise.

"That’s from me," Hoss beamed with pride as he spoke. Nestled inside the tissue was a horsehair band Hoss had braided for Joe’s hat. The intricacy of the design bespoke patience and nimble fingers.

"Golly, Hoss." Joe chewed on the right side of his bottom lip a moment as he considered something. "Thanks."

Hoss blushed slightly and looked down at his cup only to raise his head in surprise when his little brother ran to the bunkroom. Joe’s behavior was soon accounted for when he returned with the horsehair band around the crown of the hat sitting jauntily atop his chestnut hair. He hesitated a moment and when no frown came from Pa, indicating he should not wear his hat in the house, Joe tentatively explored a rectangle wrapped in brown paper.

Adam hastily pretended he had not been peeking into the cake box. "That one’s from me," he said as he folded his arms and assumed a big brother air.

"Golly!" Joe’s eyes opened wide with delight. Not particularly the reaction Ben would have expected when his youngest lay eyes on a book. "It’s all about horses, Pa! It’s got drawings of ‘em and tells all about ‘em and - golly!"

Ah! There was the explanation. Ben leaned his elbow on the table and put his hand over his mouth as he marveled at Adam’s calculated approach to interesting his brother in reading.

"You’re welcome." Adam laughed softly.

Joe browsed in the book until he became aware everyone was waiting for him to continue. He returned his attention to the remaining presents and studied a long, tube-shaped object, turning it up and down and over.

"That one is from me." Hop Sing frowned at Adam as he reached toward the cake box again.

Joe offered a prompt thank you and eased the tissue apart. He looked at the cylinder but wasn’t sure what to make of it.

Hop Sing pointed to his right eye. "Put that end against your eye. Close your other one. Now look at light."

Joe obeyed and gasped in amazement.

"Roll it around in hand," Hop Sing instructed. "Design changes and colors move."

"Oh, Pa!" Joe was as wonder-struck as he had been the first time he had seen snow. He immediately ran to the end of the table and held the kaleidoscope toward Ben. "Look!"

He humored the boy even though he had seen one of the inventions when he had been about Hoss’ age.

When it was Hoss’ turn to play with Joe’s birthday gift, he asked Adam to tell him how it worked - which, of course, Adam was more than willing to do.

"It sure looks like it’d be more complicated than that." Hoss wasn’t sure he believed his older brother’s explanation about the tube and mirrors and pieces of colored glass. "What’s it called again?"

"Kaleidoscope, " Hop Sing replied proudly.

Ben knew that Joe was about to walk closer to a lantern and probably spend an hour or two in discovery with Hop Sing’s gift. "Aren’t there more presents?" he prompted.

Joe looked at him distractedly and then blinked. "From you?"

"That one’s from Barbara. The one from me is on the bottom." He had decided to save the McNally’s gift for later after he’d read the title of the small book through the wrapping - "Fifty Knots for Sailors."

Joe ripped through the paper around Barbara’s gift but instead of indulging in another "golly" he went so still after opening a velvet-lined brass box that Hoss frowned. "What is it, Joe?"

In answer, the twelve year old held up a metal soldier intricately formed all the way to the buckles on his boots. "There’s a whole army of ‘em," he whispered. Acting on impulse, he ran around the table, smacked a kiss on Barbara’s left cheek, and ran back to stare at his troops. After a long study, he slowly, regretfully eased the box aside.

Ben smiled as the youngster opened his final gift. He’d been waiting for months to see Joseph’s expression when he opened this birthday present.

Joe licked his lower lip nervously and his cheeks went pink under his freckles. "I - uh - already have a - uh - knife, Pa."

The imp was trying to cover his tracks just as Ben had expected. It was nice to know he hadn’t lost all his ability to predict this son’s actions. "Really? I haven’t seen you use it since before we took that hunting trip last year."

Joe’s brothers gave him the "give it up" look and he murmured in defeat, "I shoulda figured you’d know."

Ben crossed his arms at his chest, more than a little happy to reinforce the Pa-knows-all impression. "Yes," he agreed. "You should have."

A slow, begrudging smile parted Joe’s lips. "Thanks, Pa."

Ben nodded his head. "You’re welcome. There’s more." He hoped the last gift would add to good feelings and not bad memories.

Joe pulled away the second layer of paper and touched the object gently with his left hand.

"What is it?" Adam craned his neck to see.

Joe stroked the wooden frame he was sure Pa had made. He held the treasure close to his chest. "It’s a painting of Ma." He spoke so softly that Adam and Hoss frowned.

"What?" Hoss asked.

Joe held it up for his brothers to see and Adam leaned toward him. "We’ll make a shelf you can put that on, brother."

Barbara exchanged looks of relief with Ben. She had painted the portrait from a thirteen-year-old memory. Ben had assured her it was a perfect likeness but she hadn’t been certain until she had watched Joe’s eyes mist over. Enough sentiment - time for celebration. "I’m ready for Ruth’s cake with iced cream on top," she announced.

"I don’t want any of that iced cream stuff." Joe wrinkled his nose for added emphasis as he placed the framed painting beside the box of toy soldiers.

"No iced cream!" Ben blurted.

"I don’t figure I’d like it much," Joe explained.

Barbara smiled at Adam in understood conspiracy as she spoke to Joe. "No Cartwright has ever said that."

Joe’s chest swelled. "I’m as much a Cartwright as you."

"Not if you don’t like iced cream. Cartwrights have liked iced cream since before George Washington was president." Barbara opened the cake box.

"I guess I’ll maybe try just a little," Joe conceded.

Joe proved he was a Cartwright after all. So much so that Ben had to tell him, "No more" when the boy asked for a third helping.

As soon as his pa walked outside with Adam and Hoss, Joe waited for Hop Sing to turn his back and then quickly dished out more iced cream for Barbara and himself. They agreed in whispers that staying up half the night with a stomachache would be a small price to pay for such a good dessert.

Bound by their undiscovered transgression, Joe and Barbara were sitting on the settee in quiet conspiracy when the others returned to the living area. While Joe admired his new knife and occasionally wiped it against his shirt to remove his fingerprints, Barbara pretended to read a book. Adam and Hop Sing eased into the chairs flanking either side of the settee - Adam opened the "Alta, California"; Hop Sing studied a pamphlet printed in Chinese. In front of the low-burning fire, Ben and Hoss turned two dining chairs around and sat straddling them, Ben’s tea mug dangled from his left hand. Smoke lay on his side at Adam’s feet, his paws and lips twitching as he dreamed. And perched on the top of the desk like a pair of bookends, Abigail and John Adams fought to keep their eyes open as the moonlight filtered through the window and lay across them.

Barbara debated, not for the first time, about how she should tell Ben the news she’d been eager to share for weeks. Would it be better to inform him in private - or to seek the safety of numbers? She had to ease Ben into the idea and avoid any of his volatile, knee-jerk reactions. Best to seek the safety of numbers - and undoubtedly best to address the issue slowly and from an approach that wouldn’t arouse his suspicions.

"So tell me, Joe." She tried to sound more at ease than she felt. "How much do you know about the Cartwrights?"

He shrugged indifferently. "I’m around ‘em all the time."

She focused her attention on the youngest member of the family, not wanting to see Ben out of the corners of her eyes.

"What about other Cartwrights?"

Joe studied his reflection in the small knife blade. "Ya mean Uncle John and Will?"

"What about your grandfather?"

Joe enthused and proudly shared his answer. "His name was Joseph and I’m named for him. And Pa has a coupla pistols that belonged to his pa and when I’m old enough he’s gonna give ‘em to me."

"Did you know that your grandfather had a brother?"

Joe’s hazel eyes squinted at her. "Sure. He was your pa."

"My father and your grandfather also had two sisters, Bess and Martha. When their father died, everything he had went to Joseph because Joseph was the oldest."

Leave it to the youngest child to recognize the inequity. "That’s not fair."

"It was the law for the oldest to receive everything. But Joseph didn’t think the law was fair, either. So he divided everything with my father, Bess, and Martha." She didn’t care to point out that Bess’ and Martha’s inheritances had become the property of their husbands. That inequity tended to trigger a bit of volatility on her part.

Hoss pointed with his right index finger. "Sharing’s more fair."

The hint of a smile curved Barbara’s lips. Like grandfather like father like son. "Did you know that Joseph and Samuel were married to sisters?"

Adam lowered the newspaper he hadn’t been able to read because of all the conversation. The marriage of two brothers to two sisters could sure explain the similarities between Barbara and Pa when it came to eye color, expressions - and temperament.

Joe twisted his lips to one side and then leaned toward Barbara. "Can brothers marry someone else’s sisters?" he asked worriedly.

"It’s perfectly legal," she assured. "Joseph and his wife had two sons, John and your father. Samuel and his wife had four sons and me."

Joe placed his knife on the table beside him, careful not to bump his hand against Hop Sing’s teacup.

"Where’re your brothers now?" Hoss rocked his chair onto the two back legs that were, for the time being, the two front legs. Without a word, Ben pushed his right hand on the top of the chair to lower the legs.

Adam folded his newspaper as he answered his brother. "One died in a hunting accident, one died in a shipwreck, another fell to his death, and the other one was shot."

"At the same time?" Joe exclaimed.

Adam looked down and shook his head. Only his little brother would ask something like that. "No, not at the same time."

Joe twisted on the settee, facing Barbara with his left leg bent in front of him. "What happened next?"

"I was the only child," Barbara said. "And when my father died, all of what he owned became mine."

"Where was your ma?"

"She died from cholera at the same time that your grandmother died."

The boy’s eyes reflected memories of a time when he had been afraid of losing Pa the same way. He solemnly replied, "Oh."

"So there I was with everything that had belonged to my father. He had always known he would need someone he could trust to help me with the money and businesses. So in his will he named your father to help with all the details. And he set aside money to be given to your father."

Ben frowned at Barbara. She hadn’t made eye contact with him since she’d begun this Cartwright odyssey - she was up to something.

"But your father wouldn’t take the money," Barbara said to Joe.

"I would’ve," the youngster assured her. He waved his arms. "I would’ve bought candy and marbles and a fancy pair of boots and a halter for Cochise."

Barbara smiled. "Your father, however, would not accept the money. Years ago, when I visited New Orleans, he filled out paperwork to transfer the money because he said he didn’t need it." She drew in a deep, bracing breath and faced Ben. "But I didn’t transfer the funds."

Ben tilted his head and looked from the sides of his eyes. Now she was getting to the point. "You didn’t?"

Barbara stuck out her chin. "No."

"Of all the asinine -" Ben’s blue eyes sparked but he refrained from saying what he was thinking.

"I have never used the money that my father intended for you to have," Barbara said.

Beside Ben, Hoss leaned forward on the chair’s back legs again. His father didn’t move to correct the situation. "What happened to it - the money?" Hoss asked.

"Nothing."

"Nuthin’?" Joe stared at her. "Nuthin’ can’t happen. Somethin’s gotta happen."

"What I mean," Barbara explained, "is that no one spent the money."

Adam propped his elbows on the chair arms and made a tent of his index fingers. He tapped them against his chin and stared at the floor in front of Hop Sing. "Has the money been drawing interest?"

Adam was closing on the truth faster than his father was. "In a manner of speaking." Even Barbara recognized how evasive she sounded.

"And it belongs to Pa?" Adam pressed.

"Yes."

His deep blue eyes locked on her face. "And you refused to use it?"

"It was your father’s, not mine." She lifted her teacup from the table beside her as Ben shifted in his chair. Time to share the news – time to look at Ben again. "I told Mrs. de Ville that you had refused to accept the money and she helped me. She invested it. And if there is one thing Daphne knows how to do, it is how to make money grow. She invested it so wisely that I was able to place considerable deposits in three bank accounts in your name last week."

Hop Sing and the boys looked at her with varying degrees of surprise but no one uttered a word.

Ben all but growled as he re-stated his long-held position. "I would not take it then and I will not take it now."

"You have to take the money," she contended.

"I don’t have to do anything." His voice was dangerously low.

"Yes, you do," she argued. "If you don’t accept the funds they will revert to the bank to be used as the directors please."

"They can’t do that."

"They will do whatever I instruct them to do with the money."

He pointed his right index finger at her as his anger threatened to break free. "I can order them to place it in your account."

"Listen again. If you do not use the funds then the directors may use them however they desire."

Ben stood and pushed his chair toward Hop Sing’s worktable. Barbara knew that the thought of bankers squandering someone else’s money galled him. He walked to the fireplace, placed his tea mug on the hearth, and leaned his right arm against the mantle. Keeping his eyes on the fire he said, "No, Barbara."

She stood so quickly that Joe jerked away from her in surprise. "And why the devil not?" she demanded. "I’ve never known you not to take advantage of an opportunity in your entire dumb life!"

Ben pivoted on his boot heels. "Dumb" tended to be a Joseph word in the Cartwright household and Ben was surprised that Barbara, as literate as she was, had resorted to the expression. "My entire dumb life?"

Barbara put her hands on either side of her waist. "You are the most stubborn, mule-headed, lame-brained man I have ever met. And believe you me, I have met my share of them."

"I’m sure you have."

Her blue eyes widened. "Don’t dare patronize me, you idiotic excuse for a man."

His lips curved upward and his cheeks dimpled. "If I’m an idiotic excuse for a man and you are my cousin that would make you -"

"Mad enough to skin you, that’s what."

Hoss leaned to one side as she stormed past him. Ben quickly brushed her skirt away from the hearth as the delicate fabric threatened to catch fire. When he did so, she pulled the skirt away from him, declaring, "And I don’t need you watching over me. I can darn well take care of myself."

"I am painfully aware of that, Barbara."

The scene reminded Adam of disagreements he’d witnessed between Ma and Pa. Ma had won every time. He stretched his legs and slouched in his chair, never doubting for a moment who would be victorious in this encounter. The only suspense was how she would accomplish it.

"Do you know what you are?" Barbara thrust her left index finger into Ben’s flat stomach.

"If I remember correctly I am a stubborn, mule-headed, lame-brained, idiotic excuse for a man." He raised his head and looked at her from the bottoms of his eyes.

"You are prideful, Benjamin. When Uncle Joe inherited grandfather’s estate he divided it into fourths. My father knew the gift came from Uncle Joe’s heart and he accepted it with love. When your father died, did John give you anything from the estate?" She motioned in the general direction where Joe sat wide-eyed. When she did so he adamantly shook his head that he wanted no part in the argument. "John gave you your father’s pistols, Ben. Did he give you anything else? Did he give you anything from his heart?"

Ben’s jaw ground hard to the left. "That’s enough, Barbara."

"John didn’t share anything with you. What do you think that did to Father? Uncle Joe and he had been devoted to each other. And then my father had to watch while your brother walked off with Uncle Joe’s entire estate and never thought twice about you."

"I said that’s enough, Barbara."

"What John did was inexcusable - it would have broken Uncle Joe’s heart." She lifted Ben’s strong, work-hardened hands from his sides. "You read the Bible and you profess to be a man of faith. Are you too prideful to graciously receive the gift my father left behind?"

Her cousin didn’t move.

Hoss raised his eyebrows at Adam - Pa was at a loss for words.

"Father owed everything he had to Uncle Joe. He wanted to share his brother’s kindness - with you."

She waited. And waited. Her cousin was a formidable man - when angered he could destroy a person’s resolve as easily as other men crumpled a sheet of paper. She must give him time to control that anger, time to accept what she had told him so he could accept her father’s gift.

The tension in Ben’s body disappeared. He pulled Barbara into a hug and then kissed the top of her head. "You know what I am most grateful for, Barbara Cartwright?" he asked lovingly.

She shook her head, wary of his unusual behavior.

"I thank Heaven that after God created you He decided one was enough."

Ben heard the bunkhouse door open but he didn’t have to look to know which son was walking toward the bench to join him as he sat in the soft glow of the porch lanterns. They each had a distinctive walk. Adam’s boots always made a click-click sound as he placed heel and then toe with purpose, unless he was hesitant or trying to be quiet. In that case he could, as Ben had told him many times, sneak up on a wild turkey. Hoss’ boot falls were farther apart, befitting his stride, and tended to sound a bit more like a stomp than a step - until he was upset and then the stomp slammed against the flooring. And Joseph was always easy to identify because he walked faster and usually louder than any child Ben had known. This time the boot falls went click-click. It was Adam.

"Are they asleep?" Ben asked as he continued to scan the pines silhouetted against the silver clouds in the bright moonlight.

Adam let out a short breath as he stretched his legs and crossed them at the ankles. "Hoss was asleep as soon as he laid down." His voice filled with affection. "Joe put the chair beside his bed and set up all his soldiers on the seat. He’s reading to them from his horse book."

Ben chuckled at the picture Adam had painted for him.

"I think he’s waiting for everyone to go to sleep so he can sneak another piece of cake."

Leave it to Adam to know what Joe was up to. He’d always been a keen observer of his brothers’ actions - and was rarely wrong in his predictions.

"I would appreciate it if you would go to town with me tomorrow morning," Ben requested.

"Sure, Pa."

He waited but the question didn’t come so he spared a look in Adam’s direction. His son had his arms up, his hands clasped behind his head, and his eyes closed - the picture of relaxation. "Do you want to know why?"

"Not particularly, no."

Adam’s calm, unbothered attitude amused Ben. "Do you mind if I tell you?"

"No."

"I want you to go to the bank with me and sign on the account."

"Sure, Pa."

Ben did a double take and asked in bewilderment, "Do you want to know why?"

"Not particularly."

"Adam, are you ill?" Ben demanded.

His son kept his eyes closed. "I’m fine, Pa. Thank you for asking." He slid down a bit. "Do you want me to ask why I’m signing on the account?"

"I’d like to think you have some interest in our finances, yes."

Adam’s right eye opened and rolled toward Ben. "Did you intend to make that pun?"

"What?"

"Never mind." He closed his eye. "May I ask why you want me to sign on the account?"

Ben relaxed with relief. Now the young man beside him sounded more like Adam. "I want you to sign on the account so you can make purchases on your own - because we’re partners."

"Partners," Adam said softly. "Does that mean Hoss and Joe will sign on the account?"

"Right after we find gold in the water well," Ben shot back.

"So you don’t really want me to sign on the account because we’re partners. You want me to sign on the account so I’ll keep the books."

Ben rested his left arm on the back of the bench. "I didn’t say that."

Adam opened his eyes and gave Ben a knowing look. "You didn’t have to." He placed the palms of his hands on the bench seat and pushed himself into a sitting position. He leaned forward and placed his forearms on his knees." Pa, I would never do what Uncle John did."

This from the son who had nurtured Hoss? The son who had an almost paternal love for Joseph? Ben clasped his left hand around Adam’s neck. "I’m sure you wouldn’t, son."

The crickets began their nightly serenade and were quickly joined by the small frogs that were everywhere this spring. The familiar chirps and croaks were welcome after too many quiet winter nights.

"Pa? Do you have any idea how much money there is?"

Ben admitted that he didn’t.

"Do you think we could afford a cook stove for Hop Sing?"

"I imagine we can afford one, yes." Ben waited a moment before adding, "If we buy a stove we should probably add a kitchen. Think you could draw a plan?"

The young man’s eyes brightened. "Where?"

"Paper," Ben quipped.

Adam rolled his eyes.

"Oh. You mean where should we add the kitchen?" Ben feigned innocence, knowing it didn’t fool Adam for a second. "Where do you think we should add it?"

Adam could give as good as he got. "Attached to the house would probably be best." He didn’t wait for a response. "Unless you want it detached like the kitchen in New Orleans."

"If I never have to walk outside to a kitchen again it will be too soon." He crossed his left ankle over his right knee. "I didn’t care for going out there every time one of you boys was hungry between meals."

He couldn’t let Pa get away with that. "You always told us to get something from the kitchen for ourselves."

Ben grinned at being caught trying to change the past. "I was teaching you how to take care of yourself."

"That was very kind of you, Pa."

"Where do you think we should attach the kitchen to the house?"

Adam gave the question several minutes of thought. Ben could almost see his son’s mind considering and discarding the different possibilities. "The most logical plan would be to take out the window near the washstand. Make that into a doorway and build the kitchen off of that part of the house. We could lay a section of rock floor on the backside of the fireplace and set the stove on it." He paused and then admitted, "We probably should ask Hop Sing about what to do with the rest of the kitchen."

"Yes, we probably should." Ben patted Adam’s right leg before he stood. "Draw the plans and we’ll start cutting the wood."

His son gave him a beseeching look. "Why don’t we buy lumber instead?"

Ben’s right brow rose.

Adam knew he wouldn’t win that argument. "Can we put a water pump in the kitchen beside the sink?"

"Yes, we could. Any idea how?"

"I’ll work on it."

Ben rubbed his chin as he walked to the door. Joseph could give up any idea of sneaking a piece of cake. If Ben knew Adam, his son would sit at the dining table half the night designing a kitchen and a water pump.

This late afternoon horseback ride, which had been Ben’s idea, was just what Barbara needed. Keeping up with Joe had been delightful but she wondered how his father managed. The youngster had awakened her by dawn’s light, insisting that it would get too hot to fish if they didn’t hurry. The moment they had returned home, with a dozen fish to show for their effort, Joe had led her to admire Cochise. After she had offered her praise of the horse and her acknowledgement that Joe was indeed a fine judge of horses, he had grabbed her hand and had tugged her to the back porch where he had proceeded to teach her how to prepare fish for Hop Sing to cook. This last skill, it seemed, was new to Joe and he had been eager to demonstrate it - and to encourage her to learn. Then it had been time for lunch, after which he had realized she had never seen the "lake" north of the house. So they had walked through a row of trees, across a grassy meadow, and had sat on a boulder. The gentle beauty of the sight, combined with the pine trees surrounding the sparkling blue water, had been too tranquil for Joe. Never one to tarry long with one activity, he had led her to his secret cave.

"It’s not really secret anymore," he had confessed as they had sat in the mouth of the small cave, swinging their legs over the edge. "Pa found it."

"That wasn’t very nice of him," she had sympathized. Every child needed a private place to play and dream.

"He would’ve found it ‘ventually," Joe had answered philosophically. "Adam says you can keep stuff from Pa if you’re real careful." He had tossed a pebble to the rocks below. "I guess I’m not careful."

The confession had caused her to smile and as Ben and she rode their horses through a meadow surrounded by woods, Joe’s words brought a smile to her lips again. He was such a carefree boy. She had a feeling he would grow into a carefree man.

Ben pulled his horse to a stop. "Let’s take a breather."

The horses weren’t laboring, and she wasn’t fatigued, but Barb followed Ben’s lead and dismounted. Maybe he was looking for a reason to stay a little longer in the blessedly warm spring air.

"Didn’t Angus think it a bit odd," Barbara asked as Ben and she strolled toward the shade, "that your horse’s name is Molly?"

Ben thumbed his hat off his forehead. "I named her before I knew Angus had a daughter."

Barbara put her hands in the front pockets of her trousers. "Have you heard anything about her?"

"No." He raised his head and said deeply, " I don’t expect to." Apparently he did not like to dwell on thoughts of Angus’ daughter’s future because he put his hand on the small of Barbara’s back and asked, "Did Joe run you to the ground this morning?"

She shook her head. "Not for lack of trying. Hoss said Joe’s that way all the time."

"He puts his heart into every minute of the day," Ben said dryly. "You used to do the same thing."

Barbara looked up at him, her eyes wide. "You can’t possibly remember when I was a child."

He jerked his chin toward a clearing, indicating that was where they would sit. "Barb, I was nineteen - twenty. Of course I can remember."

"Good heavens," she said as the realization hit her. "Adam and Joe are ten years apart just like we are."

"Adam won’t be twenty-two until summer. Don’t rush things." He held her arm as she sat on the large flat rock.

She frowned when he lay down and positioned his hat over his eyes. "Are you comfortable like that? Stretched out on a rock?"

"Um hum. It’s warm from the sun. Does wonders for aching muscles."

"It’ll break your back," she warned.

He spoke from under his hat brim. "Why did you buy that property?"

She pulled a piece of grass and tore it in two lengthwise. "I told you. When the town grows people will have to buy land from me. It’s a good investment."

"You could have made a good investment in San Francisco."

Barb stretched the length of grass between her thumbs. "I wanted to invest it here."

"Why?" Ben persisted.

Before Ben’s question, she had been ready to raise her thumbs to her lips and blow on the grass like a reed. Depending on the grass’ strength and how she placed her lips she could make a sound like a duck or a shrill attention-getting shriek. "Promise you won’t laugh," she instructed.

Ben moaned. "We don’t have to spit on it, do we?"

"That doesn’t even deserve an answer."

"Why did you invest in Eagle Station?" he pressed her for an answer.

"I need roots."

Her confession caused him to take off his hat and squint at her. He slowly raised himself until he sat beside he with his knees drawn up and his arms resting on top of them.

Barbara tossed the piece of grass between them. How could she explain her gratitude for Shelby’s honesty? Or how welcome Ruth’s gentle acceptance was. How could she describe the admiration that she felt for the unflinching resolve both women possessed? She wanted more time to discuss books with Eli. And she needed to persuade Maggie that here in the West there was a chance to throw aside meaningless traditions - a chance to offer women futures they had never dared believe in before.

But the real reason she wanted to put down roots was because she needed to be near Ben. That fact frightened her - she had never needed to be near anyone in her adult life.

What was that word Shelby had used?

Wherewithal.

Ben had an unlimited supply of love, acceptance, loyalty, and the belief that a person could do anything they set their sights on.

He had wherewithal.

"It - isn’t Jack?" Ben asked cautiously.

Jack! She whirled to face her cousin. Sensing her displeasure, he held his arms up like a man surrendering to bandits.

"I have more intelligence than that, Benjamin!"

She could always count on him to yell at her when she yelled at him - he didn’t disappoint her this time, either. "You stay around him just to aggravate Zeus out of me!"

Of course she did. He was so much fun to aggravate - the dear man was so predictable. "I have told you before: I find Jack interesting. If I wanted to ‘stay around’ a man I could have my pick from anywhere in the world."

"Not if I warned them about your propensity toward provocation."

"Oooohh," she cooed. "Propensity toward provocation. Did Adam teach you those words?"

He leaned his head back and closed his eyes.

She prodded him all the more. "Praying for patience?"

"Reminding myself that they would hang me for killing a woman."

"I doubt it. Most of Eagle Station would pin a medal on you."

He continued to lean back with his eyes closed, but he laughed - a hearty, contagious laugh.

When they had wiped the tears from their eyes, he rested his right arm on her shoulders. "Guess what Adam wants to do with some of the money?"

"Buy every book he’s ever wanted to read."

Ben dusted at his pants leg with his left hand. "Buy a cook stove for Hop Sing."

"So you’ll be adding a kitchen to the house," she said. "He loves to build, doesn’t he?"

Ben shook his head. "I haven’t decided yet whether he keeps me young or is making me old." He lowered his right arm from her shoulders and retrieved the piece of grass she had dropped between them. "I haven’t done this in years." With that he stretched the green blade between his thumbs and forefingers, raised the reed to his lips, and blew. Down below, in the meadow, the horses clipped back their ears and the unusual, and loud, sound.

Barbara slapped her hands over her ears and cringed. "Stop it!"

He didn’t. He was delighted to discover a new way to irritate her so he blew all the stronger.

"I’m warning you!" she shouted.

He ignored her and immediately regretted the next shrill screech the grass reed made - Molly and Dusty ran away like boys from a bathtub.

"Thunder and perdition," he muttered.

Barbara was on her feet, looking at the backsides of the retreating horses in disbelief. She put her hands on the hips of her trousers and demanded, "Now what?"

Ben shrugged and stood. "We walk."

"Walk! It must be five miles back to the house."

"Three," he meekly corrected.

"It would serve you right if I twisted my ankle and you had to carry me."

"Barbara." He shook his head. "I’d leave you where you fell."

She slapped his chest and trudged away from him.

"Watch out for the bears!" he called after her.

"Bears don’t frighten me," she said over her shoulder.

He knew what did. "Watch out for the bees, then."

She stopped short. "Bees?"

"Um hum." He joined her as she suspiciously surveyed the surroundings.

"What kind of bees?"

"Boy and girl bees, I imagine."

This time she slapped his right arm. But she stayed by his side during the entire walk back to the house.

Hoss took off his hat with his left hand and scratched the top of his head. Joe had come home from the Indian village full of excitement. After Adam had insisted that their little brother slow down so they could make sense out of his jabbering, they’d stood open-mouthed as he had told them what he’d seen. Molly and Dusty were grazing in the high grass about a mile from the house. Barbara and Pa were nowhere around. Yes, he’d checked that they weren’t resting somewhere. And yes he’d called out in case they were hurt. And of course he’d walked up to the tree line - did they think he was stupid or something? They’d ridden out and brought back the horses. And now here came Barbara and Pa, walking and laughing like they’d been for a stroll around town.

"Adam!" he called to his brother. "Adam!" He leaned against a corral post.

"What?" his brother demanded angrily as he walked from the barn.

Hoss jerked his chin. "Look who’s here."

Adam’s eyebrows rose. "We’ve been looking for you for an hour," he said as Barbara and Pa stopped in front of him.

Pa glanced at the sun to gauge the time. "I hope Hop Sing wasn’t in that search party. He’s making fish chowder for dinner."

Adam slapped the side of his leg with his gloves.

"Hey, Pa!" Joe ran from the front porch. "I found your horses. Why’d ya leave ‘em that way?"

Pa actually looked embarrassed. "It’s more like they left us, Joseph."

That didn’t make sense. Hoss had helped train Molly and Dusty to stay put when their reins were dropped. If they’d run off with those reins loose it was a wonder they hadn’t broken their necks.

Barbara felt the need to add, "They - heard something that spooked them."

Hoss bet there was a story behind that. He also bet they’d never hear it, judging by the way Pa was avoiding looking at anybody.

Adam didn’t quite believe Barbara. "Spooked them," he said.

Pa and she nodded without saying a word.

"Spooked them," Adam repeated. He sure did sound like Pa some times.

Pa waved his right hand toward Barbara and said, "It was her fault."

"My fault!" Barbara stomped her foot. "My fault?"

"You’re the one who pulled the grass," Pa accused.

Hoss and his brothers exchanged puzzled looks as they leaned against the corral.

"Well you didn’t have to do anything with it, Benjamin."

Pa shook his head. "Did I say that? What I said was it was your fault that the horses ran away."

"I told you to stop, didn’t I? I yelled at you to stop but no - you had to keep right on until the horses left us behind."

Hoss didn’t see how any of this was making a bit of sense. Adam shook his head and looked at the ground. Joe was smiling as big as ever.

"I didn’t intend for the horses to run away." Pa’s face was getting extra color to it. "What do you think I am? Stupid?"

Adam’s head jerked up and he looked over at Hoss. Hadn’t Joe said the same thing to them when they’d asked him about -

"You know what your problem is, Barbara? You have a bad temper."

Oh, now. Hoss shook his head. That was for sure what Ma used to say was someone seeing their own faults in others.

Pa leaned toward Barbara. Hoss saw it coming and wondered why Barbara didn’t. Pa put one arm behind her back, the other behind her knees, and lifted her off her feet.

"What in thunder do you think you are doing?" she shouted.

"You need to cool off," Pa answered as he walked toward the horse trough.

"What??" Barbara twisted, trying to get free of him. But she didn’t have a chance being as little as she was and all.

"You’re too hot-headed for your own good," Pa announced. And with that he dropped her - smack into the water.

For a little bitty thing she sent up a dang good splash. She started to get to her feet but slipped. That sent Pa into all kinds of laughter. She got to her feet the second time by holding on to the sides of the trough. When she stood she looked downright pitiful, her hair and clothes all soaked. She was plumb limp.

Pa held out his hand to help her from the trough and she slipped again. But Adam caught on to what she was doing and he said a real soft, "Ut oh." When Hoss and Joe looked his way he nodded toward Barbara’s right hand. She’d slid it under some horse manure and when she stood and accepted Pa’s help she swung her hand and splattered that smelly stuff all over the side of Pa’s face.

Joe covered his ears, Adam closed his eyes, and Hoss slid his right hand over his mouth.

"Thunder and perdition, Barbara!" Pa swiped at his cheek.

She stood there in the trough and leaned backwards, hands on the sides of her wet trousers. "It adds character to your face."

He glared at her as he flung the stuff to the ground. "Someday, Barbara."

Barbara tossed her wet hair and vowed, "I’ll be here, Benjamin."

+The end+